For this love
by Susanne
Summary: Please read and review!!! 7th year Hermione feels rejected and turns to a new friend who may not be all he seems. Can she defeat her first love in order to win her second? SS/HG of course.
1. Embarrassment and Ire

Anti Litigation charm: None of these belong to me, not making any money, if you sued you would only get my daughter in part exchange..then again!  
  
I won't repeat this at the top of each page, I'm sure you get the general idea.  
  
If there are any beta's who have a spare few minutes I would be exceptionally grateful for a nudge in the grammar direction.  
  
As always, please leave a little contribution in the little box. I haven't written in this genre before and I need your support to let me know if it is complete pants! Constructive crits always welcome, flames will be used to heat my dungeon. Thanks Susy  
  
  
  
Embarrassment and Ire  
  
Grabbing her book bag from the floor and angrily scrapping her chair back Hermione stalked out of the common room, leaving the bewildered boys to stare after her.  
  
"Well," said Ron looking at his best friend expectantly, "are you going after her?"  
  
"Why me?" questioned the dark haired boy, pushing his glasses further up his nose nervously, "It wasn't me who riled her up!"  
  
"Well I certainly didn't!" exclaimed the red head, "I just asked her about her notes from the last Binn's lecture. Nothing to get upset about was it?" The other boy shock his head solemnly, neither of them had the faintest comprehension of the magnitude of their friends ire.  
  
Peace, the library was what she needed. She was not used to losing her temper so completely, but she had been provocated on so many occasions lately that she had finally snapped. It had been a temper tantrum worthy of a spoilt two year, but it had stopped her from hexing her two friends into next week and back..just!  
  
Her shoes clicked on the worn stone of the corridors, the echo of her footsteps rebounding off of the heavy carved stone ceilings, continually circling the sound until the corridor resonated with it. Her way was lit by the brilliance of the full moon which shone brightly through the gothic windows, throwing the usually gloomy corridor into relief. Shadows still clung to the statues, darkened recesses looking more threatening in this light. She was not supposed to be out after curfew, and although she had snuck out with Harry and Ron before, this time was different, she was alone.  
  
Her thoughts were brought back to her anger with them, she pictured their faces as she slammed her fist on the table before screaming at Ron to do his own bloody work for a change. They had looked at her with horror, they didn't have a clue why she was upset. She wasn't jealous, she wasn't. she told herself. It was just a little difficult to adjust to being the odd one out in their group. The boys had begun to date this term, and were totally wrapped up in their raging hormones. Even Quidditch seemed to have suffered, with practise sessions being interrupted by shouts of encouragement from their respective girlfriends. It was difficult being the third cog, the spare wheel. The sympathy invitations for her to join them in outings had ended in her staring into her butterbeer as the lovebirds cooed over each other. They hadn't even noticed her.  
  
There was also the little matter of the potions class. Gods, what had she been thinking of! Of course, she knew what had prompted the incident, she just didn't understand the ramifications. A simple invitation from Lavender and Parvarti to join them for a girly evening had sounded too good to be true. She had wanted to find like minds, to find a sympathetic ear or two to discuss whatever girls normally talked about. It seemed at first to be working, she talked about boys, about hair, about boys, about makeup and mainly about boys.  
  
"So, who do you fancy then? You have been awfully quiet Hermione" Lavender grinned at a squirming Hermione. She had known the question was coming, but she still didn't have an answer.  
  
"I don't"" she said to their disbelieving faces, "No, really. I don't really know any other houses well enough and the boys from Gryffindor are, "she paused, "Well they are all friends!" she whined.  
  
It was the truth after all. She couldn't feel that way about any the boys she had grown up with, too many life or death experiences had made sure that she thought of them all as family. The discussions about Ron and Harry's potentiality as boyfriends had turned her stomach! Gods, it would be awful, just like dating your own brother...ewwh!  
  
"Well there must be someone you like" Lavender said exasperated, Hermione was proving to be difficult company. "What about the prefects?" she said, reasoning that at least Hermione was on first name terms with most of them, whatever house they were in.  
  
"Uhm, no, not really." she replied, "I suppose that Alberic Hexworthy is kind of alright. He's bright, a Ravenclaw, tallish." she trailed off, looking into the bored expressions on the faces of the girls in front of her  
  
"What about the teachers then?" Parvarti said, her exasperation showing in her tone,  
  
"Surely there is one you might like? "Her eyes began to twinkle as suddenly she leaned in towards Lavender. The pair of them put their heads so close they were almost touching and whispered exaggeratedly  
  
"Sirius Black.swoon!"  
  
Hermione stifled a giggle, "No, definitely not Professor Black. I have great respect for all of my teachers, I don't have any preferences of that nature. I like them all" she paused, "Well most of them anyway." her voice sounded uncertain.  
  
"You don't sound too certain?" Lavender said in a questioning tone, smothering a giggle at the red stain spreading over Hermione's cheeks.  
  
"So what are we looking for in a potential boyfriend, what are your requirements madam?" Parvarti asked, putting on her best snotty shopkeeper's voice and holding her quill ready at her parchment.  
  
Hermione laughed, relaxing a little. "Well, he's got to be intelligent."  
  
"Counts most of them out for a start." said Parvarti, giggling.  
  
"And tall, a little over 6 feet would be good." Hermione was beginning to warm to this.  
  
" What hair colour?" both the girls asked and looking in surprise into each others eyes they dissolved into a fit of the giggles together, holding onto their sides as they fell backwards onto the bed.  
  
"Dark, with dark eyes. Not necessarily handsome, but someone who managed to make me laugh and cry in the same breath. A man who can challenge me, a man who would accept me for myself." she broke off aware that the girls had stopped giggling and were now sitting on the edge of the bed, gripping the covers in their hands and staring at her with saucer wide eyes, utterly captivated.  
  
The lose of her voice seemed to snap them out of their trance, and they shifted awkwardly.  
  
"Sounds like Snape, all dark and snarky!" laughed Lavender,  
  
"Yuk" yelled Parvarti and dissolved back onto the bed in another fit of laughter.  
  
The conversation had gone downhill from there, with more impossible matches being suggested. When at last Hadgrid's name came up, simply because he was over 6 feet tall, Hermione pleaded a headache and went to bed.  
  
  
  
He still hadn't arrived, which was the only reason that the class was talking animatedly. Hermione was sitting in her usual place, well away from Lavender and Parvarti. They kept looking round at her and giggling. It was unnerving. Suddenly, filling the room with his dark presence, the Potions master swept in, his voice startling his students into silence.  
  
"Open your books at page 758, we will be attempting the strengthening potion. Some of us," he added looking directly at Hermione, "may even manage it." At this he turned his head sharply, a bird like action which brought his eyes to Neville. "Then again, I shall not hold my breath." he intoned, the sarcasm thick enough to cut.  
  
Neville seemed to shrink in on himself, he whimpered, scanning the page in front of him to find anything he could actually do. Hermione's protective instincts had taken over and she smiled encouragingly at him, trying to raise his spirits.  
  
"Come on Neville, I'll help you know. You can do this." she whispered the litany to the shaking boy.  
  
"Miss Granger, I believe you have enough to do with your own work, without trying to do everyone else's. "he said, scowling at her and sweeping up to his desk. He sat, pulling a pile of marking towards himself, his scowl becoming deeper as he graded. The lesson had continued with no other problems, even Neville seemed to be managing without too many hissed instructions.  
  
"Exactly what do you think you are doing Miss Brown?" his silky tone cut through the gentle susurration in the dungeon classroom. Lavender had stopped, mesmerised like a rabbit in headlights.  
  
"Sorry Sir. "she mumbled, trying to hide the parchment in her bag. He stood, casually walking to her desk and holding out a hand for the offending item.  
  
"Now, Miss Brown." A note of warning in his voice caused Lavender to shift uncomfortably. She handed him the parchment, visibly flinching as he unrolled it and scanned its contents.  
  
Hermione did not believe that his scowl could have become any deeper, but she was mistaken. Cold fury wiped all expression from his face before it settled into harsh lines. His eyes widened perceptively and he looked up, straight into her panic stricken face. The look lasted only a split second but it was enough to tell the whole class that the contents involved her. He registered the fierce blush which erupted on her cheeks, heard the soft groan and saw as she trembled, her courage beginning to fail her.  
  
So, he thought, this was interesting. Must be losing it Snape, they would never have dared think such things about you last year. He snorted, rolling the parchment back up and striding off to his desk. He placed it with exaggerated care into a drawer, and without turning growled,  
  
"Tonight 7pm Miss Brown, and don't make any plans for the next two days either!"  
  
Hermione had no idea how she managed to get through the lesson. Even the Slytherins were subdued, their laughs and comments restricted after a warning glance from their head of house. As the bell went for the period end she hurriedly stuffed her belongings into her bag, her need to run paramount in her mind.  
  
"Miss Granger, a word" he stated, watching her frantic actions.  
  
Hermione stopped in shock, nervously looking up at the dark figure at the front of the class. She slowly made her way up to his desk, biting her lip and clenching her fingers convulsively. He waited, watching her discomfort, until the class was empty of the brats.  
  
"I have I believe warned you about your choice of friends in the past?" he questioned. She nodded, keeping her eyes on his chest, not daring to look into his face.  
  
"You seem incapable of choosing the right sort Miss Granger. Be more careful from now on. I will hold you responsible for their actions in future." He sneered, hoping for a reaction from the silent girl. He was rewarded as her voice exploded from her,  
  
"But that's not fair! I had nothing to do with whatever Lavender wrote." She saw his expression change to one of curiosity. "I don't know what she wrote Professor, but I can guess that it wasn't something very complimentary to either of us." She said  
  
"It was..interesting." he stated, his head leaning to one side slightly, his eyes narrowing in assessment of her.  
  
"I'm sorry Sir, I don't know what else to say. I shall certainly be keeping away from them from now on." She finished mutely hoping his anger was satisfied with her apology.  
  
"You may go Miss Granger" he said, suddenly sounding very tired with the whole business.  
  
Hermione had grabbed her bag and fairly run out of the classroom, straight into the arms of Ron and Harry, the suddenly concerned best friends again.  
  
Snape bowed his head, resting it in his hands and concentrating on breathing. Did she have no idea what had been written on the parchment? She must have said something to Brown to elicit such a missive. He glanced over to the draw where the offending letter was securing hidden. Merlin, if this got out it would ruin her! Of all the irresponsible acts, this was, well this was..His thoughts ran out of steam, his anger draining away. This was most interesting, he thought, remembering the way her hair fell in front of her eyes when she bowed her head in submissive apology.  
  
She lifted her head, shaking her hair from her face and peering at her surroundings. Her moment of introspection had allowed her feet to lead her away from her usual well trodden path. She was not near the library, at least she didn't recognise her surroundings. The corridor she was in seemed non descript, curving around a half hidden statue several yards away. Hermione stopped before a wooden door set into the stonework. She should turn around and go back to the common room. She should be sensible and return. Hermione thought about the tantrum in the common room and decided, embarrassment and anger being equal, that she would explore. She was fed up being the quiet one who did as she was told. All that seemed to achieve was being ignored or humiliated by your so called friends. With a concerted buzz of positive energy she cautiously turned the handle and opening the door she peered into the unknown room.  
  
The room took her breath away. Double height with vaulted stone ceilings and a floor length window of tiny twinkling panes, the room was dominated by two things. A large stone spiral staircase swept up from the centre of the room, disappearing into the ceiling above. The second feature was the mural. This is what had so captivated Hermione as she had stood in the doorway. Her mouth open as she gasped in pleasure, she walked spellbound into the room, gazing with amazement at the huge mural which wrapped it's way around the walls, covering them and enclosing her. Among the flora there cavorted animals, herds of deer and wild horse, rabbits munching at the verdant grass and butterflies detaching themselves from the scene to flutter past her nose and into the other wall. The whole atmosphere reminded her of a Disney movie, the colours bright, the animals cute but naturally depicted. The mural continued around the outer shell of the staircase, moving up towards the room hidden in the blackness of its coil. The mural curved upwards, becoming more fantastical as it rose, beckoning the girl higher. As she climbed she gazed around her, smiling in apology as a frightened herd of deer scampered off, settling in a far off copse of ash. Her foot missed a step and faltering she found that she was at the top of the stairs in a room similar to the one below. Ahead of her, set into an ancient stone lintel was a door, words glowing in golden flowing script lit its frame. With her head on one side Hermione tried to read the inscription, but the meaning of the words eluded her. She knew that she had seen the script before, knew that it was not a human hand which had written these words, but would need several reference books to decipher it. Warning bells screamed in her head but she felt compelled to open the door. Her free will was suppressed as she moved forward, her hand turning the handle shook and she took the step which would alter her life. 


	2. A Meeting of Minds?

A Meeting of Minds?  
   
"Hello" a male voice suddenly broke the silence. Hermione jumped, and looking warily across the room she saw a young man, sat in the window recess, as if he had been gazing at the sky outside.  
"Hello" she replied, trying to appear confident. He didn't seem to be dangerous, although she knew never to take anything at face value in this wizarding world.  
  
He was tall, with black hair cut in a traditional wizard style. His complexion was clear and pale, and his eyes a dark colour Hermione couldn't identify at this distance. Sitting as he was, legs curled up onto the sill of the window, she noticed his inate grace, and she struggled not to smile in appreciation.  
He grinned as she continued to stare at him in silence, her head cocked to one side, her teeth biting her bottom lip in either indecision or nerves.   
  
" Were you looking for someone?" he asked gently, taking in her slight form  
  
"No, " she said rather quickly, "That is, I didn't expect anyone to be here. Sorry" she tagged on the end of the sentence, and smiled ruefully.  
  
"I was just exploring, and was drawn into this room by the beautiful mural.."  
The boy visibly relaxed, and the tension in the room subsided.  
  
"Oh, yes, it is stunning isn't it." He said, " Although I tend to return here because of the books." His head nodded towards the wall behind her and she turned to look, expecting a huge range of bookshelves. She was mildly disappointed to find only a single shelf, with nothing sitting upon it except a flat, time-blackened section of timber. Scratched into the surface of the wood and nearly hidden in the patina were markings; words and symbols.   
She turned a questioning glance at the boy, who remained seated in the window embrasure. He smiled again, faintly amused.  
  
"Ask for a book, title, author, general subject, whatever. It will deliver it." He intoned as if to a backward child, and turned his attention back to the night sky  
  
Indecision gripped her as she tried to decide which book she would most treasure. She knew that her choice would be telling, and she was aware of a sudden need to impress the boy, or at least not to look a complete idiot.  
  
"Moste Potente Potions" she announced, remembering the ink spreading across it's pages and the profuse apologies from Ron as Pigwidgeon landed heavily on the table, scattering ink, parchment and quills. Neither of them could afford another copy to replace Hermione's well loved book, and it had added to the anger she had been feeling for the last few weeks, until her explosion of pique earlier that evening.  
She smiled at the memory; a smile that turned to grin as the book in question appeared on the shelf. She picked it up and opening it at random she turned and moved towards the unoccupied chair, engrossed before she managed to sit.  
  
He watched her, the emotions running across her face. She was so open, hiding nothing from him even though she was obviously trying. He smiled faintly, his mouth turning up at one corner, and found himself unable to look away. She was nothing remarkable he decided. Brown hair, pulled back into a thick plait which reached down her back to nearly her hips, not too tall, not too curvy but not too thin either. Her face was pretty, but again, nothing amazing¼so why was he so drawn to watching her?  
  
He listened as she made her choice, starting at her eventual decision. Potions, was she drawn to them too, he wondered, his breathing becoming erratic as he noticed the way her hands caressed the front cover. She brought the book up to her face, inhaling the scent, savouring the experience of the new find. He was mesmerised, his mouth hanging open, his world condensed to a single moment, a single figure¼¼.her, the girl. He realised that he did not know her name, but then again he didn't want to. If she gave it then he would have to reveal himself, and as she obviously had no idea who he was he would prefer to keep it that way. He liked this anonymity, the mystery of meeting people, not allies, enemies or houses. There was companionship in her presence; a sweetness that filled the air as surely as her scent, which carried to his heightened senses. Although he did not believe in destiny, maybe it had found him, had shown him a path to the happiness he deserved.  
  
Languidly uncurling himself from the window he moved across the room, sliding into the chair he had previously occupied. She looked up from her book, briefly catching his eyes, and he was lost. Her sweet smile had been his undoing, that and the total innocence reflected in the twin pools of her eyes. He forced himself to breath deeply, aware that she was becoming unnerved by the intensity of his look. He dropped his gaze, picking up his book as tried his best to remain unaffected by her. Maybe he could fool her, he thought to himself, but he knew that he was still aware of her every nuance, of every breath, of every thought. He was for the first time in his miserable life, totally engrossed in another being. He was captivated, his feelings laid bare, his emotions running without restraint. He was in love.  
  
   
   
Hermione flung her bag onto her chair, and threw her entire length onto her four poster bed, sighing deeply and burying her face in her quilt. She was tired, she needed to sleep. Instead her mind drifted back to the boy in the room, as it had many times over the last two days. They had sat in silence, reading their books for at least an hour before she had decided to return to the common room and go to bed. The boy had looked at her intently and asked if she would be returning. She had hesitated, but the lure of the books had been too much, and she had agreed, as long as he was happy with her returning. He had replied that he was more than happy, and would appreciate her company, the look in his eyes warm and expectant.   
As she walked through the door she had turned to find him watching her intently still, her voice had caught in her throat, and the tension had returned to the room.  
  
"My name is Hermione" she had said, her voice barely a whisper.  
After a slight pause he had replied,   
  
"You may call me Titus"  
   
   
  
The room looked no different from the previous time she had entered it, and so she walked towards the staircase, no longer seeing the mural, just intent upon her destination. The boy was sitting in his chair, one leg flung over it's arm, his back wedged into the corner. He looked up from his book, a triumphant expression flitting across his face before he schooled it into a smile.  
"Hello there Hermione." He drawled, "I see you couldn't stay away from my sparkling personality" his grin became feral, the candlelight reflecting on his slightly pointed canine teeth.   
   
Hermione smiled back, conscious of the way his eyes roamed down her body, taking in every curve. She had dressed with care tonight, her navy kilt rested exactly four inches above her knees, her jumper was tight and tucked into the skirt. It showed her newly emerged figure to perfection without making her look "available". Flicking her hair behind her shoulder she meet his eyes, those pools of liquid chocolate flickering in the glow of the open fire. She gasped gently, and dropping her gaze she stumbled to the chair next to him. The tension in the room was palpable, uncomfortable even, but Hermione knew that with this emotion charged reaction she had at last found someone she could relate to, someone she was attracted to.  
She smiled into her book, determined to pull herself together, to show him that he didn't have the upper hand, sure of his gaze upon her face.   
  
"So, have you decided which book to ask for next?" he inquired, a study of nonchalance.  
Not fooled at all by his indifferent attitude Hermione crossed her legs, demurely making sure that her skirt hadn't ridden up too far!   
"I have so many ideas I can't decide," she said, her voice calm belying the torrent of nerves currently coursing through her.   
  
"I have a list of books that I am dying to read for personal reasons, but then I have an equally long list I would love to read for research, " she chewed her bottom lip, and placing Moste Potente Potions down by the side of the chair she rose and sauntered over to the bookshelf.  
  
"I suppose there are a few which fall into both categories" she mused, feeling his eyes following her.  
  
"I would like The Headology of a Country Witch, by E Weatherwax, please" she finally announced and was rewarded by a loud thud as the heavy gilt covered tome arrived on the shelf.   
  
"Wow, look at that cover." she giggled,  
  
"An object lesson in headology to start with, I should think" his silky voice intoned   
Mustn't giggle again, mustn't giggle, Hermione repeated to herself. She didn't want to look like Lavender!  
Standing on tiptoes she hoisted the book down, thoroughly aware of the rampaging hormones of the boy behind her. She couldn't help the grin that crossed her features as she turned suddenly, her skirt flaring around her slightly, to catch the boy with his mouth wide open. He closed it with a snap, and buried his head in his book, a deep flush creeping over his cheeks.  
  
Giving up on a seductive saunter back to her chair with gratitude, that book was extremely heavy, she gracefully slid back down into the chair and opened the treasured pages. Instantly she was caught, her mind taken out of her body and off into the book and the mind of the author.   
The boy watched her, aware that he had found her weakness. He had not liked her actions earlier, he felt out of control, not a feeling he liked. He let her read for an hour and then decided that he required her attention again. He yawned, stretching, making sure that she heard him.  
   
   
   
She yawned in sympathy, raising her hands above her head, stretching her frame to relieve some of the tension and heard to her deep satisfaction the hiss of his indrawn breathe.   
  
"Hermione" he whispered, not able to trust his voice any further,  
  
She gazed at him, their eyes locking, their bodies moving towards each other. Before her conscious mind could intervene, his lips were on hers, kissing her deeply. Emotions flooded Hermione's body; she was shaking with the intensity, her heartbeat racing, her breathing laboured. One emotion rose to the surface and to her surprise it was definitely not lust or affection. It was triumph, pure and simple power over another being. She drew back, concern creasing her brow, to look at his face, not understanding or liking this feeling. And as she looked deep into his eyes she realised that the feelings were not hers, they were his.  
   
   
It was their anniversary, she thought with a giggle. One whole month of late night sneaking out had not gone unnoticed by her friends but she had worried herself with the ease of the lie which had put their minds at rest. It had not stopped her rushing down the corridor, smoothing her hair as she ran.  
She pushed the ancient wooden door, hoping, no needing to see him again, but it didn't move. Hermione took out her wand and pointing it at the lock she spelled it to open. Alohamora did not seem to have the desired effect though, and the door remained stubbornly closed. Hermione tried again, becoming worried and more than a little desperate.   
  
"Open damn you" she hissed as she took hold of the handle and jerked it up and down, "Open!"  
  
"Ah, my dear Miss Granger, are you sure you wish to go through that door." she heard the saddened voice of her headmaster behind her.  
  
Spinning round, her hands still behind her on the handle she nervously licked her lips.  
  
" Professor Dumbledore, Sir, I was exploring and, uhm, sort of .."  
  
"Lost track of the time" he finished, smiling gently at her lack of excuse.  
  
"You should not be out after curfew you know, even the head girl has rules Miss Granger" he said, his harder tone belied by the constant twinkling in his eyes.  
  
Hermione smiled ruefully, "I'm sorry headmaster. I just needed to be here. I need to¼" her voice trailed off, not wanting to believe she was telling the headmaster that she was infatuated by a boy she barely knew.  
  
"I don't think that door will open again Hermione my dear." he stated gently" It really is not a good place to go. I should have it sealed up, but I don't like to push fate any harder than I have too"  
  
Hermione swallowed the sob which rose to her throat, " But I won't see him!" she blurted out " I mean, there is someone I meet here." she said, trying to replace the panic in her voice with calm.  
  
"Oh, I think you will, Miss Granger. I think that it is inevitable" his heavy sigh echoed down the corridor as he walked her back to her dormitory, away from the temptation.  
  
Grief stricken, Hermione suddenly broke free and darted down the corridor, a sob escaping her throat as she ran blindly. Not caring where she went, the effort of running was dulling the pain. 


	3. Midnight Encounter

Just want to take the time to say big THANKS to my reviewers, especially gorge girl for doing two. Muchly appreciated except for the comment about being old!……. Detention Queen smithy!! And not with the potions master either cheeky madam!!!   
  
  
  
  
  
  
Three weeks had passed and Hermione was pretty much back to her old self. She only thought about the boy occasionally, and even then she found she missed the sexual tension more than she missed him.   
To be brutally honest with herself she was angrier about missing out on the books than his company.  
She was a pragmatist she decided, not a soppy romanticist who mourned for lost loves. She had hardly known him, she thought with a wistful sigh, unaware of the desperation which coloured this internal dialogue.  
And it was with this frame of mind that she was patrolling the corridors at nearly midnight on a Friday evening, searching for students out of bed, checking the wards around the restricted areas and generally dreaming. She was so preoccupied with her internal musing that she did not see the dark mass huddled on the floor, not until she caught her foot in the hem of the cloak which wrapped the collapsed man, and went sprawling to the floor.  
  
" No running in the corridors!" he managed to croak, coughing violently at this small effort, blood splattering on the stone in front of him.  
  
Hermione sat up, brushing the dirt from her grazed knees,   
  
"Professor Snape?" she questioned, curiosity and fear fighting for dominance  
  
He heard the fear and presuming the curiosity was pity he retaliated.  
  
" Is that not obvious girl" he stated crossly, " Instead of crawling around in the dirt you could be helping me up. " his voice trailed off, his hiss of indrawn breath the only clue to his pain.  
  
She didn't know what to do for the best. The thought of having to touch him, to help him up was not appealing. The angry looks he was shooting in her direction were not helping to put her at ease, and her heart was racing with apprehension.   
  
She stood up, and wrapping her arms around his damaged frame she attempted to draw him upright, very conscious of the feel of his body beneath her trembling hands. Slowly he stood, leaning heavily upon her, his arm round her shoulder, testing to see if he could indeed walk without fainting again.   
  
"Sir, where would you prefer to go?" she asked, trying to recognise their current location from the dim clues available in the darkness.  
  
" Well let me see, we could go for a walk down to the lake," he mused " OR we could get me back to my quarters so that I can die in peace!" he half shouted, starting another coughing fit. Hermione waited until he had finished then pointedly said,  
  
" I only wondered if you would prefer to go straight to the infirmary. You do seem to be bleeding quite a bit." Even in the darkness she could feel the slick wetness which now coated her hands and smell the copper tang of his blood.  
  
"No" he stated, " My own bed" he murmured, his voice becoming less distinct.  
  
Please don't die on me, please don't die she repeated under her breath,   
  
"Sir, sir!" she shook him slightly, worried that he was indeed fainting again.  
  
" Miss Granger!" he hissed, "Will you desist! I am having enough difficulty walking without your attentions!"  
  
  
It felt like miles, miles of pain and torture, piled upon his already ravaged body. He concentrated on staying sane, fixing his attention to keep himself together. Her scent, it came to him now, overlaid with the smell of blood but strong enough to claim his focus. He leant closer to her, breathing in the fragrance from her hair, concentrating solely upon the floral tones. The pain took him into an internal world where only her scent existed. His outward self seemed to Hermione to be as detached as ever, cold and ungracious, his inner self remained hidden, his thoughts buried deep beyond her sensing.  
  
A hundred yards later of silent ponderous progress, broken only by the occasional gasps of pain from Snape, they came to the door of his office.   
  
" Professor, I don't know how to get in" she whispered, hoping that he was still able to raise his wand and gain access himself. He did just that, a murmured spell, which Hermione instantly memorised, and the door swung open. They made their way across the office, Snape guiding her with a pointed finger at the far bookcase. Another spell was murmured and the bookcase moved away, revealing a dark passage suddenly floodlit from flambeaux set high in the walls.  
Hermione and Snape made their way down the corridor and emerged in a large room, dominated by a large oriole window. The moon flooded through the glass, lighting the room to nearly daylight.   
  
"When you have quite finished gawping…" he stated, the acid of the comment dulled by the unsteady quality of his voice. He gestured weakly to a large door topped by an ornate lintel and so Hermione turned the handle and helped Snape inside.  
  
The room inside was as conservatively decorated as the sitting room. A large four posted bed sat against the back wall, the remaining walls being covered in mahogany bookcases. Another large window allowed the moon to light the path to the bed, along which Hermione steered her semi conscious burden. She stumbled trying to turn him round, allowing him to sink back onto the covers, his body slack and unresponding.   
  
She couldn't let him simply die, she told herself, even if he seemed to demand that, her conscious would not allow her to turn away. She removed her wand, which bit to start on first she muttered, and starting at his head she began to work gentle healing spells to close his cuts and heal his bruises. Tentatively she removed his cloak, and upon finally managing to open the buttons on his frock coat she reached a bloodsoaked linen shirt. He moaned, his hands clenching into fists around the bedcovers. Slowly, trying not to wake or hurt him further she opened the buttons, gasping in horror at the ugly gash slowly weeping his life. The ribs around it were bruised, and the marks continued around and underneath his torso.   
  
Working quickly she disinfected the cut and sealed it with layers of spells, becoming more proficient with the practise and the adrenaline rushing through her veins. Slowly she rolled him onto his front, taking care to move his head round, brushing his hair from his eyes.  
His frown was still creasing his face, but he seemed to be slightly easier in his sleep, and so Hermione continued with her mission to help him. She eased the jacket from his shoulders, carefully undoing the myriad of buttons on his cuffs.  
  
" Merlin" she breathed half to herself, " it must take you hours to get dressed! In fact, there must be a reason for all this constricture. Is it Freudian professor, do we have a problem relating to the outside world, so we button ourselves up against it? Stupid question Granger, we are Snape, of course we have a problem with the world!" she muttered, finally removing the shirt and revealing his pale, marred back.  
  
She worked quickly, easing the bruises through all the colours of the rainbow until the skin was clear and pale again. As pale as alabaster she mused, running her fingertips across his shoulder blades, marvelling at the velvet softness of his skin, horrified by the web of thin scars which patchworked across them. Startled by her own sudden rush of feeling for this hated man she turned him back, aware that she now had the dreaded trousers to remove. She reasoned that his legs must be alright, as he had managed to walk to the bed, but she knew that no matter what arguments she came up with she would have to make sure.  
  
With trembling hands she fumbled with his buttons, pushing the tiny black discs through their loops, her head flickering upwards to look at his face, watching for signs of anger. Slowly she drew them down his legs, pausing to remove his boots and socks and undo yet more buttons on the cuff of his trousers.  
She noticed more bruising, and more worrying another large gash over a deep black and purple lump on his shin. It looked broken or at least fractured as no bones protruded through the discoloured skin. Hermione endeavoured to knit it back together. Muttering a spell to show her the extent of the damage, she was delighted to see that her spells seemed to have worked and the bone looked clean and new. Refusing point blank to look at anything in his middle area, she reached for the comforter intending to pull it up over his now shivering body. In that moment, with the quilt clutched in her hand, he moaned, and she found herself motionless, frozen as she watched and waited. He moved slightly, settling his body and drifting deeper into his healing sleep.   
  
Letting out a breath she hadn't been aware of holding, she pulled the quilt over him, tucking it around him slightly whilst placing a gentle warming spell upon the man inside. His earlier movements had left his hair covering his face, and with a trembling hand Hermione reached forward and gently pushed it back, running her fingers over the lines on his face, tracing the shape of his features. He looked at peace now, the deep creases lessened although not completely gone. Hermione found she had stopped motionless, staring at him, wondering and dreaming. She shook herself, "It's Snape remember, the greasy git!" her mind shouted at her, but his hair hadn't felt greasy. It had flowed through her fingers, shiny and silky as his voice she had thought. Reluctantly she turned away, her work here was done and she could return to her bed to at least a few hours rest before tomorrows shopping trip to Hogsmeade. As she reached the door she looked back, at a sight which took her breath. A moonbeam, cutting through the dark of the room, rested directly on his face, illuminating the darkness. How could she have missed him? she thought, How could she not have seen him for the man he was?  
And in that moment Hermione grew up, and saw beyond the mask, just a glimpse but enough to leave her anxious to know more. She was after all a Gryffindor, and cats, especially lions are curious by nature.  
  
Content that he was healed enough to last the night, Hermione lit the fire in the sitting room and retired to one of the comfy chairs set before the fire. Drawing her cloak around her she settled down to a fitful sleep, broken by images of his stern face and snatches of sarcastic comments. Although she knew that he was safe, she found herself unable to bear the thought of him needing her and her not being there for him. She looked at her watch, nearly 4 am, she sighed and settled down to a few hours sleep before the sun came up and her new day began.  
  
Several hours later she awoke, her neck stiff and her body shivering in the cold of the room now the fire had gone out. She had not slept well, the picture of his illuminated face seemed to stick in her memory, and she found mind racing with questions and suppositions. She stretched, easing the knots from her muscles, starting a little when she heard a muffled thump from his room. Jumping up she pushed open his door and found him crumpled on the floor by the bed, cursing soundly.  
  
"What are you still doing here, Miss Granger?" he managed to sneer. Hermione was stung by his tone,   
  
"Well, trying to prevent you from getting up and hurting yourself was my main mission!. " she snapped  
  
"You failed." he sneered sardonically before gracefully collapsing onto the bed wrenching Hermione's arm which was around his waist supporting his weight.  
  
This was the point when the lack of sleep and abundance of worry finally caused Hermione to snap. The tantrum she had thrown a few weeks previously had only been a warm up!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
She was supposed to be doing her Arithmancy homework, well to be honest she was supposed to be listening to the lecture by Professor Binns, but she had researched this topic three months ago and could have written 12 feet of parchment without attending the lecture at all!  
  
She looked down at her parchment and found it full of doodles; flowers, arrows, thick cross hatching and initials….. his initials. Merlin what was wrong with her, she wondered. It was four days since she had helped Snape. He had gone to see Poppy the next day and as he had not mentioned any opinion on Hermione's healing ability with any of his usual acid wit when he next saw her, she presumed he felt it adequate. Potions on Monday morning had been the usual mixture of interest and fear. He had not acknowledged her help, either by being nicer to her and her friends, or by any more overt actions. She had not really expected him to, but it still hurt. She had struggled throughout her school tenure to gain some measure of respect for her work, for her efforts. Being muggleborn and a girl meant that she always had to be just that little bit better than everyone else before she could be judged worthy. She felt that she had done well, both in her efforts at healing him and the fact that she had not told a soul what had happened. She was protecting him and wanted him to recognise that fact.  
  
Maybe that was what he craved too, she ruminated. She had known about his double role since the third year and thinking back, it was probably at that revelation that her feelings for him began to change. Her respect for his intellect broadened to include admiration for his bravery, for his self-sacrificing, for his protection. It was simply that she had not told him and to her knowledge neither had anyone else in a very long time. Maybe he needed that softness, that recognition from those who benefited from his actions. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to simply not abuse him quite so much, she thought thinking of Ron's continuous comments about Snape. She smiled recalling how many times he had been caught making those comments. But how had Snape looked when he heard them? She didn't remember hurt; she only saw anger, dislike, acid sarcasm and loss of housepoints.   
  
Her mind drifted off from the lecture going on around her and his face, illuminated by the moonbeam caught her caught at her awareness, pulling a choked gasp from her throat. Hastily she coughed, trying to cover her lack of attention. Ron bashed her on her back,  
  
"Cough up chicken" he offered, grinning at her. She smiled back, embarrassment colouring her cheeks and winced at the pain she now had across her back. Subtle was not in the Weasley vocabulary she decided.  
  
  
He sat, head in hands, elbows resting on his desk and his mood as dark as his greasy hair. Gryffindors, the bane of his life, whether they were third years like his last class or seventh years like her. Miss Granger, his mind drifted, what exactly did she expect from him, he wondered. He had seen the hurt in her eyes when she left his classroom. Did she expect his heart felt gratitude, his smile and thanks? He snorted, if she did she'd be in for a long wait!  
It wasn't that he wasn't grateful, he was genuinely glad to be alive, although he could not figure out why. He had not expected to open his eyes on Saturday morning and so the sunlight, which flooded his room, had come as quite a shock. So had her sudden appearance at his side, helping him back onto the bed. She had stayed with him, getting his breakfast, advising the headmaster of his condition, fetching his marking and a book or two.   
  
For a man who disliked being an imposition, who hated being disabled in any way, he found himself pleasantly surprised by his mood at the end of the day. She had been good company, once she had stopped shaking like a leaf and become angry enough to start using her brain. A smile curved his lips as he remembered her caustic replies, mellowing into genuine companionship as the day progressed. He had mixed feelings about her departure back to her own rooms that evening. He had been sorry to see her go, but his solitude was precious to him and he craved the silence more than he hated the loneliness it ensured.  
  
A deep sigh reverberated around the dungeon, echoing off the damp walls and coming back to his ears repeatedly. Of the many days he would gladly live again, in order to change his choices or see those loved and lost, he realised that he wanted to live that day again. He missed her, pure and simple, he missed the company of an intelligent person. This was the reason for the sigh; it was the heartfelt resignation that yet again he would not get what he wanted, what he needed. Another sacrifice on the burning pile of his life, another loss that he could not change. His mood was descending rapidly, his melancholic musings turning into a deep felt rage against the world that denied him and yet used him for it's own advantage. The rage was so fierce is blocked out all his finer feelings, consuming them with it's heat, blocking the pain radiating from the dark mark on his arm until it became nearly unbearable. Grasping his arm against the agony that swamped his mind, he rose, staggering across the room and out of the castle, the need to apparate evident from the pain-etched mask across his features.   
  
  
  
Tucking a strand of her unruly hair behind her ear again, Hermione turned along the outer boundary of the castle grounds began to walk resolutely back to the castle main door. She had been walking for nearly an hour, unable to concentrate on her work; she found that if she tired herself out before bedtime she at least slept well. Her steps dragged, not wanting to go back, her mind happy to day dream about him. She was so caught up in her musings she nearly walked into him as he stumbled down the path towards the forest, clutching his arm against the pain. She had not seen him in such distress, excepting the night he nearly died in her arms and she was instantly concerned for his welfare.  
  
"Professor, Professor!" she called out, catching at his upper arm in order to enquire if he required her help. Unaware of anything but the pain, Snape apparated with a sudden pop, leaving the path empty, the wind whipping across the lonely parkland up to the castle promontory.  
  
  
"Good Evening Severus, so good of you to finally join us" the acid edged hiss of the red eyed horror that was Voldemort breathed, leaning in close to his face. Snape bowed, kissing the extended hand with reverence.  
  
"I beg your pardon my Lord, I was gathering information which I knew you would be eager to hear." He bowed his head, praying for a blast of inspiration to provide him with a fictitious piece of knowledge to satisfy this monster.  
  
He waited, the expected reply did not seem to be forthcoming, and in anxiety he dared to look up.   
The Dark Lord did not seem to be paying him any attention though, was seemingly riveted to a point somewhere over his right shoulder.   
  
"Hermione!" it breathed, looking with astonishment at the girl, still clutching the arm of his unfaithful servant 


	4. The Revelation

Anti-lawyer spell: Only borrowing, not making any money with it, promise to return ( although condition should have improved no guarantee is given).  
  
Please review in abundance, it's the only thing that keeps me going. If there are any beta readers who wouldn't mind giving some constructive crits I would really appreciate it.  
  
Finally found a way of making my computer give up the files it had stored for me with crashing..so this story may eventually get finished, depending upon the reviews.  
  
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He had not realised that she had apparated with him, so consumed with the pain that he had not felt her hand clenched in the fabric of his cloak. He turned in shock to stare at her face, only to find her eyes fixed upon the face of the Dark Lord. She was surprisingly calm, the widening of her eyes and the whiteness of the knuckles still holding his cloak giving lie to a calm exterior. She moved closer to Snape, unconsciously drawing courage from his presence and he felt his chest constrict with concern for her.  
  
"Hermione?" came the hissing voice of Voldemort, " You came at last" he murmured, his red eyes eagerly sweeping over her, lust and longing evident on his features.  
  
Hermione was in shock, she had figured out what had happened within seconds of her arrival, but to be face to face with Voldemort was the stuff of nightmares. She had huddled closer to Snape, knowing that their lives were now in mortal danger, but not knowing what actions he would require from her to get them through this. That she would have to disseminate as well as the Slytherin she knew, she was just not sure what to say, if anything. She would just have to follow his lead, she thought, straightening her back and trying desperately to control her trembling. She was a Gryffindor and would show them that she had courage. She would make him proud of her, she would survive.  
  
"My Lord, I." Snape started, desperate to drag his master's attention from Hermione, her safety uppermost in his mind.  
  
"Quiet! You have done well Severus. I will spare you a punishment for your tardiness" he breathed, " but don't test my patience." His eyes had never left her form. He held out his arm, motioning for her to sit in one of the chairs seated before the fire in the waiting room. "Please, have a seat. You will come to no harm here Hermione" he hissed.  
  
The sound of her name on Voldemort's lips shocked her, how did he know her name. She wasn't the famous one, at least not outside Hogwarts, he shouldn't know about her. She heard Snape's voice, could hear the fear in his usually silky tones, but found her attention held by his movement, subtle but unmistakable. He moved in front of her, positioning himself between his Lord and her, placing himself in a direct path. He was protecting her again and she felt her heart tug as she stared at his shoulders, knowing at that instance that she could never hate him again.  
  
She was being ordered to sit, an order wrapped in a velvet request, but Hermione was under no illusions that Voldemort expected her to comply. She unclenched her hold on Snape and brought her head round to look deeply into his eyes, to reassure him, to gain comfort. What she saw reflected in their black depths held her, suspended in an eternal ambered moment of time. She took a step forward, unable to drag her eyes from his until she had moved several steps. Please, she prayed to all the deities who could hear her, please let us get through this. Give me the strength to play this part, just a little of his courage and I can pull through.  
  
She turned reluctantly to face Voldemort. He stood, his frame thin, his face a grey reptilian mask stretched over bones whose shape showed far to clearly through the papery skin. The body he had finally managed to inhabit had once been human, had had it's own soul. All these finer feelings which made it human had long since left, replaced by the evilness that was the Dark Lord. He was motioning towards the chair, an expression of impatience on his features. Hermione walked to the chair, moving as far as she could from him, angling her body away from him, her arms wrapped tighly across her stomach.  
  
He sat, sighing and tilting his head to one side as he regarded her.  
  
"You were not planning on being here" he stated, watching her reactions to his nearness.  
  
"No" she whispered,  
  
"How" he demanded  
  
"I saw Professor Snape, I was walking, he looked in pain so I put a hand out to stop him and offer my help. That was the moment he apparated and I sort of come with him." She said a little disjointedly.  
  
"I see. Fate is a strange being Hermione. She may play the same game of life, but her rules are different and she indulges her whims." his pointed tongue licked the dry lips, making Hermione shudder. He started, apparently annoyed at the look of disgust he could quite clearly see in her green flecked eyes.  
  
"I have enjoyed our little talk my dear, but I have a dark revel to control tonight. I had not anticipated your arrival here." He paused, as if searching for his words, " I would welcome your company in future though, we could talk without this audience" he said, a sweep of his arm indicating the 30 or so deatheaters in the nearby room. Hermione turned to follow his gesture and met the eyes of the potions master waiting for her. He had not moved from his position of attention, his eyes riveted upon her form, studiously ignoring the other deatheater arrivals.  
  
"I will see you in two days then?" he questioned, noticing with annoyance how she stared at Snape. "Hermione!" he raised his voice slightly, causing her to jump and break eye contact with Severus. She turned to Voldemort,  
  
"I don't think.." she began only to have his voice cut across hers  
  
"Oh, I think that you can my dear, I wouldn't want anything to happen to your potions master because of my anger at your lack of an appearance " He intoned silkily, smirking at his persuasion.  
  
Hermione's eyes widened at the perceived threat and knowing no other way to appease him she nodded once, curtly. She would come again; she had given her word to a creature of darkness.  
  
"You may go now my dear. Take your teacher with you, I don't suppose that you can apparate on your own?"  
  
She shook her head, not trusting her voice not to scream her rage at his threats.  
  
"Then I will simply call Severus and you can come with him." He decided, and apparently satisfied with the course of the evening he rose from his seat offering her his hand to kiss.  
  
Hermione stood and stared at his hand, willing her body to move but fear freezing her limbs. She knew that not only her life but Severus's too was in danger, but she could not will her muscles to move.  
  
Voldemort sighed, reining in his anger at her seeming defiance,  
  
"I am not surprised that you don't recognise me Hermione, but I had thought that after talking you may have recognised my heart." He said sadly.  
  
Her head shot up to look at him in horror, "I don't know you! We never met until tonight, I would definitely have remembered." She stated, her voice trailing off towards the end, sick to the core with a premonition of his identity "No, no you can't be!" she stated, wringing her hands in her distress, " No.."her voice died  
  
"Yes," he hissed, " You do know me my love. " he cackled triumphantly, his grotesque face pulled into a wide grin.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Please review, it makes my day...and like Snape, I hate to grovel. 


	5. Recovery, never a straight road

"Ah my dear, you are back with us again." Came the kind and gentle voice of the headmaster. He stood by the end of a bed in the infirmary, his eyes twinkling. Hermione rubbed her eyes with the back of hand whilst attempting to sit up. She winced, a blinding headache hammering against the inside of her skull and became aware of someone helping her to sit. She looked sideways into Poppy Pomphroys smiling face.  
  
"Let's sit you up dear." She said, pushing the pillows behind Hermione into a more comfortable position. "I've got something for that headache too. Professor Snape thought that this stronger potion might be required" she bustled around Hermione, handing her a vial of red liquid with tiny gold flecks glistening in the reduced light of the ward. Hermione swallowed it, smiling at the sweet raspberry taste which flooded her senses. I must be ill, she thought, his potions never taste nice.  
  
As if the mere thought of him could summon his presence, the door swung open and the potions master swept into the room, his robes billowing behind him. His face was impassive but his eyes showed relief that she was awake. He had no idea why she had fainted, but he had dashed forward with a surprising turn of speed and caught her before her slight form had hit the floor. The Dark Lord had been laughing, his delight a tangible, greasy feeling in the air around him. Severus had looked to him for an order and found himself waved away. He had scooped her up in his arms and apparated back to Hogwarts, or as near as the wards allowed. He carried her up to the castle, collapsing in the atrium, as Dumbledore glided down the stairs followed by a worried contingent of staff and friends.  
  
He had been relieved of his burden, Albus simply putting a hand to his shoulder and smiling warmly at their safe return. Hermione had been bundled up by Lupin and carried towards the infirmary, leaving Snape alone in the middle of the floor gasping for breath and hoping desperately that she would be alright.  
  
She smiled up at him, only a faint smile but it lit warmth inside him which he wasn't sure was entirely appropriate. He found to his horror that had returned her smile, if slightly stiffly. He dragged his eyes away from her and looked into the amused eyes of the headmaster.  
  
"Severus, glad to see that you have recovered from your summons." He stated, watching as the potions master fairly squirmed under his scrutiny. Severus simply scowled, turning back to the girl on the bed.  
  
"I need to know why you fainted Miss Granger, I did not understand that part of your conversation." He stated, his voice harsher than he intended.  
  
She winced, as if he had physically hit her, her eyes suddenly filling with tears. "I'm sorry, "she wept, "I am so sorry! I didn't know it was him. Gods, if I had I would have hexed him into next week and back!" her voice rising until she was nearly shouting. Snape raised his eyebrow at her attitude and turned his head to face the headmaster.  
  
"Ah, so it was him then."  
  
"Will somebody be kind enough to let me in on the secret" Severus's silky voice intoned, trying his best to limit the sarcasm and curb the acid.  
  
"It is not my story to tell, Severus" said the headmaster, "But I will leave you to get some rest my dear, you can talk in peace." He said, pinching one of the many chocolate frogs which were piled in the table at the foot of the bed, tokens from her friends wishing her well.  
  
Hermione watched him leave, gliding over the floor in soundless grace and turned back to Severus. He sat in the chair at her side, casually crossing his legs, apparently settling down for a long story.  
  
"Would you like a cup of tea?" he asked, startling her with his warmth.  
  
The time it took for the tea to arrive gave her the opportunity to gather her thoughts. A good thing too, she thought, as she found herself very reluctant to discuss this with Severus. Telling the man you were almost certain that you were falling in love with, that you had had a crush on the man who tortured him on a regular basis was not going to be an easy conversation. She smiled in acceptance as he handed her a cup of the sweet liquid, shivering as their fingers brushed in gentle contact. Placing it gently on the side table she took a long deep breath.  
  
"I had no idea when I met him that he was Tom Riddle." She began, resolutely not meeting Severus' eyes, "I lost my temper and went for a walk to calm down. I found a door and felt compelled to explore, not something I normally do." She said, wondering as she did so whether spells were involved. She looked up at him hesitantly asking for his opinion, needing to know if she had really been spelled to meet Riddle.  
  
"Certainly the door was warded, not to keep you out but to draw you in. I wonder who Riddle was fishing for that night? He murmured, caught up in the question. "You may have saved Potter's life you know?" he questioned  
  
She nodded, slightly happier about the situation and attempted to continue with her dialogue.  
  
"We talked about homework, about literature and philosophy. He allowed me to use a spell to get any book I wanted." She grimaced ruefully, "A trap. She stated,  
  
"A highly effective one for you, though I believe it may not have worked so well on your friends" he intoned silkily.  
  
Hermione smiled at his tone, glad that he hadn't changed beyond all recognition.  
  
We.." She began, the next sentence blocking her throat, she was dreading revealing this to him.  
  
"Go on Hermione, I am not judging you in this regard" he said  
  
Hermione look up at him and saw honest support in his gaze. His head was tipped slightly to one side, his legs again crossed in front of him. She found their gazes caught and she felt compelled to be honest with him, he deserved no less.  
  
"We flirted!" she blurted out, regret crossing her features as she saw his eyebrow rise over widened eyes. "He made me feel wanted; it was just talk, just talk and stupid insinuations." She finished, angry at herself, a deep red creeping over her cheeks, she had been so stupid.  
  
"And nothing else.." His question remained in the air  
  
"We kissed, once!" she shuddered, recalling the papery skin of Voldemort's current host. Her guilt was nearly tangible in the tense atmosphere in the ward.  
  
Severus nodded once, his eyes duller, his hands clenched into fists in his lap. His world had suddenly contracted again, she had kissed Riddle, she had feelings for Riddle. He felt himself withdrawing from her, coldness chilling his heart, despair filling his soul. She was lost to him.  
  
Hermione watched as his emotions chased their way across his stern features, and felt his withdrawal from her. He had had feelings for her, that much was obvious even to Hermione in her distressed state. She had shaken him, pushed him away, when all she wanted to do was hold him close.  
  
"I don't love him, I never loved him Severus." She cried out, not sure if he was still aware of her presence in the room., not conscious of using his given name in her despair. Although his body had not moved his emotional detachment was very evident and it terrified her.  
  
"You must believe me! I could never feel that way about anyone else" she cried, panic colouring her voice, raising the pitch, until startled he looked up, straight into her eyes and into her heart. Her unspoken revelation freed his heart from its icy prison. They stared into each other, being drawn through into each others souls, her whispered confession brushing at his consciousness  
  
He rose from his seat, having no idea how he managed to cross the space to her bed, intent on kissing away the memories of Riddle, intent on claiming her as his own. He cupped her cheek in his hand, their eyes never leaving each other, and drew her closer. Gently at first, a mere brushing of her lips gaining pressure as she responded with passion, he kissed her.  
  
  
  
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A/N: Many thanks for the reviews, they make me feel all bubbly and keen to write more. Not so much of a cliffhanger...I'm sure you appreciate it, but don't get too used to it.  
  
Please review, .... like Snape, I don't like to grovel. 


	6. Where your loyalties lie

Anti-lawyer spell: Only borrowing, not making any money with it, promise to return ( although condition should have improved no guarantee is given).  
  
Please review in abundance, it's the only thing that keeps me going. Ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss ssssssssssss  
The tower was cold this early in the morning, the wind catching at his hair, blowing it wildly across his unseeing eyes. Night had given way to a misty morning light which seeped across the horizon, the Scottish fog veiling the surrounding hills to a greyish murk. He had been here for hours already, trying to come to terms with the situation he found himself in, that they found themselves in. Turning his thoughts round and round, examining his actions and feelings.  
  
He had no answers for the questions his own mind threw at him. No answers, only more questions. He didn't understand his own openness, the surge of feeling he now felt for the young witch. He most definitely didn't understand how he could have been quite so foolish as to let her know how he felt!  
  
The only thing he knew for certain was that at the moment her eyes fixed with his in Voldemort's presence, he had fallen for her. His protective male became over powering, and only her safety had stopped him from rushing to her defence.  
  
He had never been a romantic man, too caught up in himself and his passion for potions to feel for another person beyond the platonic friendships, few and far between which he currently treasured. He had always felt a faint distaste for the sufferings of peers and colleagues, their love sick dependency, the anguished break ups, the married solidity they all seemed the relish. He had no desires that a cold shower and a visit to knock turn alley couldn't alleviate and he had never had feelings for a student. Not until that moment, a clear caught in amber moment, when her eyes had shown him a promise. Like Scrooges ghosts, he found himself given the chance for a different future, one that included love, one that included her.  
  
He had never been a romantic man, but he had once, as a very young man, dreamed of love, and that haunting, although faint now in the stern, cynical man at the balconies rail, was enough to pull him into a new reality. He had no answers, but at least he now knew the right questions.  
  
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He could never remember the stupid password which was changed on a regular basis. He had been informed of the new one this morning in the staff meeting, but unusually quiet, even for the potions master, he had not been paying attention.  
  
" Five points from Slytherin, Professor Snape." he murmured with slight amusement, pushing an unruly strand of windswept hair back off his face. "Blackjacks?" he questioned, suddenly remembering a snatch of the conversation.  
  
The door opened and he strode upstairs, robes fluttering behind him in a swath of black, to the meeting he really didn't want to keep.  
  
"Come in dear boy." Dumbledore smiled at the younger man, knowing the appellation irritated. Snape sat in his usual chair, sinking down into its comfy brown leather and accepting the cup of tea which he was handed.  
  
"Now," Dumbledore said, settling his thoughts as well as his posture, "We need to decide what is to be done about Miss Granger, Severus. Although this may be a golden opportunity to have another spy in Voldemort's ranks, I am concerned about the safety of ...Ah Miss Granger, please come in." he said, motioning Hermione from the door to the chair next to Severus. She smiled shyly, walking over to sit, catching his eyes and continuing the smile.  
  
Gods she was beautiful, he breathed, caught in the moment. This will not do Severus, he told himself. You must concentrate, her life is being discussed here. He pulled himself together and with hard glittering eyes, he wrenched his gaze from hers and looked directly at the smiling headmaster.  
  
"My dear Miss Granger, as we are aware of your past relationship with Tom Riddle," Severus scowled deeply at Dumbledore who smiled at him cheerfully and continued unaffected" I suggest that we try to use his current demand to our advantage. I understand that he has threatened Severus' safety if you do not attend, which suggests to me that he knows of your current feelings." Two pairs of shocked eyes regarded the elderly man, "I am quiet happy about your relationship, as long as you are discreet about your liaison, I trust you will conduct yourselves with decorum." Hermione looked across at Severus and they both smiled ruefully, as if they could keep anything from the headmaster. He seemed to know everything before you knew it yourself.  
  
"But, I am very concerned about your safety my dear. I would not want any harm to come to you and I know Severus would never allow it."  
  
The younger man grunted his agreement, the euphoria of Dumbledore's blessing still blocking his vocal chords. He tried to watch her from the corner of his eyes, but found her gaze openly on him.  
  
"I know" she replied, her voice filled with the feelings which were flooding her.  
  
"But I have to return, I gave my word"  
  
"Your word!" Snape's harsh bark made her jump. He continued in a slightly softer voice, trying to reason with her. "He is a monster Hermione, he is totally insane and way too unpredictable. Although I would never leave you alone in his presence if I could help it, I may not have a choice."  
  
"I know Severus, but I cannot let him hurt you simply because I dare not face him. Think, if he does have feelings for me I could exploit them. I could use them to mould him, to anticipate his actions. I could help." She finished, desperate for him to understand her unspoken fears. She could not lose him because she lacked the courage. She was a Gryffindor, she would help him in any way she could, she could do nothing less.  
  
He squirmed in his seat, not happy with the conversations path, his mind pulled in two directions. This was not a situation he normally found himself in. His loyalty to Dumbledore was his whole focus where the Dark Lord was concerned. Now he had another priority, her safety.  
  
"I think that your initial presence is certainly required" the headmaster replied when the potions master remained broodingly silent. "You will need to confer with Severus to ensure you both know what you are doing, my dear. This will not be easy and you must have the utmost trust in each other."  
  
"I have that already Sir" she whispered, not daring to look at Severus. The headmaster smiled, "Good," he replied, "I'll leave you both to decide upon your tactics then. Make sure you have some hidden signals to aid communication" he added as the pair rose to leave.  
  
"And take some chocolate and let me know the minute you get back." He added as they nodded and opened the door to leave.  
Author's Note;  
  
Many thanks to all my reviewers, as you can see they have pushed me to write quicker.hint, hint.  
  
Violet- thanks for the review, found I totally agreed with you. Not enough info, so I wrote a tag on for this chapter. Hope it has some flow to it. I'll ensure I add more as I progress.  
  
Hugs for Eternal Queen..just cos I love how she gets all excited when I mention her, and hugs for Fire Fairy-(love the name)...thankyou both.  
  
Susanne x 


	7. Clarification

Anti-lawyer spell: Only borrowing, not making any money with it, promise to return ( although condition should have improved no guarantee is given).  
  
Please review in abundance, it's the only thing that keeps me going. ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss sssssssssssssssssssssssssss  
  
She reached the door before him and pulled it open. Severus held it whilst she walked through and turning, closed it behind them. She had stopped walking, was simply standing there, her back to him, so close. He took the final step and wrapped his arms about her, pulling her body back against his, burying his face in the cloud of hair at her neck.  
  
"Are you alright?" he questioned gently, turning her in his arms until she faced him. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears she was fighting to hold back.  
  
"I am now." She breathed, linking her arms around his waist and leaning her head on his chest. She listened to the strong beat of his heart, taking comfort in its pounding, taking comfort in his warmth. He was rubbing her back in small circles with one hand, the other one rested low on her back, pulling her close to his body. His breathing became ragged as he fought to control his rising desire. Chuckling slightly at his predicament she stepped away from his embrace, catching at his hand to hold it trapped between hers as if she couldn't bring herself to break contact with him entirely.  
  
"I think we ought to go." She said" I feel like we are being watched."  
  
"Of course we are, this is Hogwart's, Come with me" he stated, striding off down the spiral stairs which lead back onto the main body of the school.  
  
She only let his hand go when they reached the gargoyle sentry, the headmaster's request for discretion at the front of their minds. Severus looked hurriedly around, checking that they were alone. Seeing no-one he turned to Hermione and slowly bent his head towards hers, kissing her warmly but chastely. He could not allow his desire to rule his actions, would not compromise her safety.  
  
"You have lessons I believe Miss Granger, I know that I have."  
  
"Yes Sir," she muttered, smiling at the soft look that swept across his features before his more normal sneer settled on his lips.  
  
"Then we had better go, don't you think" he said, making no move to leave. Her smile grew wider,  
  
"Yes Sir" she replied  
  
"Hermione." a warning note in his deep voice caught her attention, "Come to my office after dinner," he started, the sudden sound of footsteps causing him to change in mid sentence and step away from her "we can arrange your detention then. Do try to stop snivelling girl!" he finished harshly, and turning dramatically, robes billowing behind him he stalked away.  
  
"Hermione! You alright?" a friendly voice called in her ear" What did he do to you, the greasy git? You've been crying haven't you? Merlin! What a complete bastard. What did he give you detention for?" Ron continued, oblivious to Hermione's inability to stop staring at Snape's retreat.  
  
Hermione winced at Ron's assessment of Severus's parentage and character. "It was my fault Ron. I walked into him, trod on his foot and jammed my elbow in his chest. He wasn't best pleased, I wasn't paying attention." She replied, still staring at Snape's figure as it disappeared down the corridor.  
  
Harry simply stood and watched his friend, unable to understand why she was lying.  
  
The day passed far too slowly for Hermione, her thoughts were upon her meeting with Severus rather than her transfiguration lesson. The lesson was a blurry period of daydreaming, she remembered turning a mouse into chair, and she remembered getting an A+ for her homework. Everything else was simply thoughts about him, his hair, his voice, his hands, his scent. He filled her every thought. McGonagall offered to take her to Poppy, so convinced was she that Hermione was sickening.  
  
Escaping after class she ran up to her room, acutely aware that she only had one hour before dinner to get ready. She wanted to have a bath, wash her hair, change her clothes, even if it still had to be uniform. She grinned at her reflection in the mirror, maybe he liked uniform. Don't go there, Hermione, she told herself. You are just going to talk, take this very slowly and get to know him. She was still grinning as she lowered herself into the foam filled bath; she seemed to be under his spell, and she hadn't been happier in years.  
He wasn't at dinner, could not bring himself to eat, to be in the same room as her where everyone could see how much he was effected. He needed time, time to bring some order back into his own mind. If circumstances were different, if there were no Voldermort, if he was not a spy., so many ifs, they ruled him now. He wasn't at dinner because he could not face her beaming eyes and pretend that nothing was wrong.  
Hermione was early, three minutes and most definitely counting. She looked nervously at her watch, measuring off the seconds, trying to hide in the shadows of the corridor without attracting any undue attention from the portraits hung in the dismal light. A small chime from her wrist indicated it was time, so with a happy nervousness she knocked on the door and entered at the sound of his voice.  
  
Something was not right, the atmosphere in the room was thick, emotion charged, and even from her inexperienced viewpoint, Hermione was scared. She walked up to him, hoping that she was reading the look in his eyes wrongly, hoping that his immobility from behind the refuge of his ebony desk did not signify his distance from her. He read the anxiety on her face, noticed the slight tilt of her head as she silently begged him to clarify. He sighed, breaking away from her gaze and pushing his chair back from the desk.  
  
"Hermione," he began, thinking of the words he had rehearsed in his mind. Her quiet gasp of shocked realisation broke his resolve, and with a quick stride he had gathered her shaking form to him, burying his face in her hair and soothing her with muttered endearments and caresses. As her sobs lost their strength he released her, stepping back slightly he flourished a white linen hankerchief from an inside pocket, looking ludicrously like a muggle magician. Hermione smiled slightly, and wiped her tear stained face whilst he scowled and tucked strands of her errant hair back behind her ears.  
  
"Do you have any idea of how much danger this puts us in?" he questioned, his voice still strained, but low and still.  
  
"I don't have a choice Severus. I can't do this without you. I wouldn't have the strength, the courage, the will to go through with this. You anchor me. You give me wings. I trust you with my life and my love. I need you to trust me now."  
  
"I do trust you Hermione. You are one of a very select few, but I do trust you. I am more concerned with trusting myself. I couldn't bear it if I lost you Hermione, but if I lost you through my own inability to remain objective." his words trailed, his meaning hung in the air.  
  
"I don't think either of us can be objective about this Severus, whether we continue to express those feelings or not."  
  
"No, maybe not" he admitted, as he trailed one finger down the side of her cheek, removing the last trace of a tears path. " But I do think it would be better for us to show some restraint.."  
  
"Are you suggesting that I am being too forward Professor" Hermione smiled lightly as she teased him. The dark man sighed but his lips twitched in amusement,  
  
"Merlin forbid, Miss Granger, Merlin forbid."  
  
His smooth voice curled around her bones turning them to water as he gathered her to him for a simple, comforting hug. Hermione clung to him, her arms wrapped around his waist and up to caress his back through the black cloth of his frock coat. She sensed rather than felt the moment when he tensed, drawing suddenly away from her and frantically drawing up his sleeve.  
  
"Severus ?"  
  
"It's time." He hissed through clenched teeth," He is calling you back." His eyes met hers, a silent questioning, a hope that she would change her mind.  
  
"I'll get my cloak" she said, with much more conviction than she currently felt.  
A/N:  
  
Again, many thanks for the lovely reviews which have been flooding in. I am exceptionally gratefully to all of you who have given me support and encouragement. I know the chapters are still too short, but I'm hoping that the frequent updating will placate you all. 


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